


and i'm feeling good

by neptunedemon



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Husbands, M/M, Post-Canon, Praise Kink, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-18 15:09:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18702076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neptunedemon/pseuds/neptunedemon
Summary: Yuuri treats Viktor to a good evening after work. Simple as that.





	and i'm feeling good

**Author's Note:**

> i hadn't written romantic sex in a while so i wanted to write something simple and quick! this is that, enjoy!

_Viktor._

Yuuri breathes in the name, lets it tickle the back of his throat. Mouth against neck, lips against skin. His voice just a whisper.

"Viktor."

"Darling."

Viktor's under him, laid back, muscles worn from his day: skating, exertion, and being a beautiful delight out there on the ice. Yuuri runs his hands along the side of his jaw, which shifts when he rises to kiss and whisper along Yuuri's collarbone.

"Mm," he whispers. "Yuuri."

Yuuri had prepared the whole day for this lovely, simple evening. He'd remained on an electric edge, anticipation floating in his chest and giving all his nerves a buzz.

And now Viktor is here, home, in his arms. Tired from a day of coaching and skating and the cold blank stare of ice.

They'd flirted over dinner. Viktor's eyes were brightened by the good food and their best wine, but there was a quirk to his smile and a suggestiveness to his gaze that told Yuuri he knew. So there was no surprise in the way Viktor met him leaning back into the counter with a long, deep kiss. Dishes left astray, Viktor was led back to the bed room between kisses and fingers in his belt loop, tugging him along.

Now he's spread out and half-lidded in candlelight. The rest of the room is dim and soft. Their life is on display in a tidy mess. A closet is half-open, stuffed with clothes on hangers and boxes on the floor. A few shirts peak from behind dresser drawers. A TV on the wall reflects the dark room back even darker.

Before Viktor arrived home, when Yuuri was lighting the last candle on the dresser, he'd stepped back and looked around. He hadn't thought to clean beyond shoving papers aside to make a safe space for the candles. He briefly thought perhaps he should've made the room sparkle, even if there wouldn't be much looking around.

Then the front door opened with a jingle of keys, and Yuuri flew to the bedside table to double check their condom and lube supplies.

Now in the bedroom again, Yuuri's grateful he didn't clean. There's something luxurious about doing this in a domestic space. With clutter shoved to the walls, bills pressed neatly to any available surface, and the recent morning an echo of clothes hangers and discarded pajamas on the floor, it was all so charming and _them._

Them.

That's what this is about. Them.

Yuuri goes to the shirt Viktor's wearing, fingers tracing under its hem and lifting it back . The bedroom is warm, their bed cozy and sweet-smelling. Viktor practically sank into its cushioned mattress, miserably soft and pandering to a skater's body, the way he'd always liked it and Yuuri had learned to.

There's no playful protest when Yuuri pulls his shirt away. Just his watchful, pleased and loving gaze as Yuuri moves. His silver hair had fallen back around his head. A crown of starlight.

"What's gotten into you, Yuuri?" he asks. It's a little more like a purr.

"Hmm," Yuuri hums, his fingers dipping below Viktor's pants. "What do you mean?"

Viktor grins; it’s dazzling. "Whatever did I do to deserve this?"

For a moment, and only a moment, Yuuri nearly loses himself to that question. Because Viktor? Well, Viktor has done everything to deserve _anything_ good. Yuuri's heart wells heavy and big at the mere idea of his husband out there on the ice, training every parents' kid who would sell their souls to be taught by THE Viktor Nikiforov. Then there's that warm spread all over him he always gets when he remembers the first time they met. Or one of the First Times. The Onsen one. How dumb he'd been, they'd both been, but how Viktor had gone, fearlessly and recklessly, after the one person he wanted.

So yeah, he could maybe think of a few things he'd done to deserve this. But eloquently, he sums it all into the graze of his lips against Viktor's throat and a muttered, "For looking this pretty, of course." Viktor might've been about to laugh, but somehow Yuuri's hand is farther down Viktor's pants, and any preamble of a laugh gets cut off with a gasp.

"Good," he whispers in praise, and Viktor shudders under him and his hips push off the bed, sliding his clothed cock into his grasp. Even Yuuri is surprised by that little eagerness. He grins and glances at Viktor, who is still biting his lip at the edge of whatever good thing he'd just felt. Yuuri resists the unholy temptation to move further yet. Resisting is challenging when Viktor looks at him; his unraveled expression gathers itself just enough to stare evenly -- if a little stunned -- to say, "I feel especially at your mercy tonight, it seems."

Oh, that's good. Yuuri's hand massages around over briefs. Damn, he was really hard. Viktor's teeth bite onto his lip.

Excitement flutters in Yuuri's stomach, then spreads through him, pushing against his skin in an ticklish buzz.

It gets him stroking his hand along Viktor's cock several more coaxing movements, and then he shifts to let his other hand join to start tugging his pants down. That excitement rushes out when he sees the way Viktor's body eases into letting him undress him. His head is tilted to the side, hair splayed pretty and the sharp curve of his jaw cut parallel to his gaze. His eyes are heavy-lidded but still watching Yuuri. His legs are weak, yet pliant and willing as Yuuri pulls each pant leg off. The briefs go with them, and he finally questions, "Mercy?"

There's no pressure for Viktor to answer as Yuuri's hand closes around him and he strokes upward. And again, and Viktor lays back into it. Body a little more limp, hips propped a little more up, skin glowing in flickers of the stretch of candle light. Basking in all that is gold. He's beautiful. And lovely. And so, so -

"Good."

Viktor's eyes slide open. "Hm?"

"You're so good, Viktor." He curls his hand around him in a new way, and Viktor is reduced to sounds. And he tells him again, in a whisper this time, "Good," and licks his hand. Holding Viktor's stare, just the slightest hint of a smirk on his face, Yuuri reaches down again and touches him. Viktor is something of a mess, with his whiny gasp and hitching as if it's been a million years since he was touched, and Yuuri delights in the feeling of the space around them growing warmer. Viktor's cock twitches in his hand as his stroking settles in more, and yeah, he loves that, too.

His own clothes grow itchy against his skin -- they're tight, heavy, but there's something about leaning over Viktor's naked sprawled body this way that's invigorating; he can't stop yet. He licks his hand again, not missing the delicate sound in Viktor's throat as his touch is removed.

"Not good," he scolds, though his tone can't help but be unthreatening, but the expression that crosses Viktor tells him something must be working. "Be patient, dear." He starts stroking him again, however restarting his pace, and Viktor purses his lips against his frustration. It's enough to make Yuuri nearly laugh, or kiss him, or -- he glances Viktor's cock.

So rather than further the transgression for that tiny complaint, Yuuri gets on his elbows and sucks his husband's dick.

"Yuuri!" Viktor manages; a hand flings to his hair. Yuuri goes all in, doing his best to suck his cheeks in and get Viktor to jerk hard at that first hit of his mouth around him.

It's good. The taste of precum is good, and the smell of their sweat is good, and it's all just good, like Viktor and everything about their life.

He waits until Viktor's fidgeting a little too much to pull off, and now patience is something foreign to either of them.

Viktor extends an arm for Yuuri, who is kicking off his own clothes. He's hard and the desire is aching and hot all over. Viktor stares unforgivingly at his dick and he doesn't care. He wants him to see, to see how much he's wanted and how good he makes Yuuri feel.

"The very sight of you," Yuuri begins to say while he moves over Viktor. He cups his face in his hand and runs his fingers down his jawline. There's a small shiver; it's delectable, Viktor feels like diamonds, all shining beauty and brilliant delicacy.

The thoughts make Yuuri want to search for words to end his sentence. _The very sight of you makes me weep. The very sight of you is too perfect. The very sight of you makes me want to..._

He kisses Viktor on the mouth, then presses them together. Their cocks touch, and hell why is that so good, too? But it is. Viktor bucks with a gruntled sound, and Yuuri practically does the same. It's a godly feeling to be flush naked against Viktor. Their skin is so warm and he could get lost in the taste of Viktor's tongue, the wrap of his hands in Yuuri's hair, and the way their bodies fit together like settling layers of earth. Just natural, each other's gravity.

He could get off like this, probably, too. It feels so damn good when Viktor hikes a leg onto the bed and positions himself to wrap Yuuri into him farther.

But no. He sits up, panting, and Viktor is too, but he watches Yuuri expectantly. "Yuuri," he pleads. "I want you."

Yuuri obliges without tease; he's lost to this man. He reaches for their lube and condoms. Yuuri just wants to fuck him and fuck him good; senseless, as well. That would do nicely.

He spends a few minutes wrecking Viktor, first. He lubes his fingers, puts them in his ass, and taunts him by switching between fucking Viktor with his hand and kissing slow and wet along his cock, and stroking himself. When he does himself it really gets Viktor, and he curses and hisses as he watches Yuuri's hips thrust vainly into his own hands.

Multiple fingers and plenty of teasing later, Viktor's arching his back despite his best resistance while Yuuri slides inside of him. He's tight, warm, the best as always, and Yuuri wants to lose it and drive into him. He deserves this. To feel this and feel the pleasure.

"Fuck, Yuuri, you're incredible, my love,"

Viktor says between gulps of air.

Buried in him, Yuuri pauses. His heart pounds in his ears, blood rushing through his head, but he bends down and kisses Viktor again. It's sweet and long, with something like need edging at its ends. He pulls his lower lip between teeth and Viktor nips back. A groan escapes his throat. His thrusts from this angle are shallow but deep; there's an intimacy in that that's loving and feral. Together as much as they can manage, right now.

Eventually he does pull back. Viktor manages one pleased, lazy smile, before Yuuri is pulled mostly out and pushes in again. That smile melts into something that drives him. He feeds off Viktor's every move, expression, reaction, until there's a tremble in both of them he recognizes.

He murmurs Viktor's name. The sweat sheens both their bodies and the heat in his stomach rises like a wave.

Viktor's leg is still hiked up from before and Yuuri grabs it deftly, lifts it and hoists it over his shoulder. There's gasps from Viktor, but they’re nothing in comparison to the sound he makes when Yuuri hits from that new angle. Again, and again, and each thrust is another swell of heat; Viktor's cock is a weeping mess now, and through trembling, loose muscles, Yuuri grabs it and strokes in rhythmless movements. In seconds he has Viktor coming.

Viktor orgasming is a gorgeous sight.

His nose crinkles and his eyes slam shut, and his entire being goes still except the twitch of his coming dick and the quick rise and fall of his chest.

If only he could keep Viktor suspended in this for longer.

When Viktor's beginning to slip into a patient afterglow, Yuuri finds his edge in the memory of Viktor coming around his dick and onto his hand; his lower abdomen is hit with that earlier wave. His arms shake to hold Viktor in place while giving his final, shuddering thrusts.

_Good._

The candles have burned down: their wicks are long, their flames casting a glow that's a tired, rapid flutter across their bodies. They both appear even more like shimmering gold with their exposed skin.

Viktor traces little patterns on Yuuri's back. They're swirls and whirls, though once Yuuri thinks maybe he traces out 'I love you.”

It feels like Yuuri is receiving all the aftercare and he thinks it should be the other way around, but he cuddles into Viktor's side more and the thought fades with just how right this feels. Lazily, he drags the blanket at the bottom of them bed over them, and they pull closer to fit under it.

Viktor's hums a few times, caught in approving reminiscence. Eventually he says, "I can get used to Tuesday nights like this."

Yuuri snickers, nuzzles, and says, "Me too."

**Author's Note:**

> thank you! please let me know you were here via kudos/comments! 
> 
> [tumblr](http://skateonme.tumblr.com/) | [twitter](http://twitter.com/neptunedemon)


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